


The Resulting Solution

by SmilesRawesome



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, Kidlock, M/M, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2017-12-30 22:16:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmilesRawesome/pseuds/SmilesRawesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John have met, but they don't really know each other. Then they get paired up for the excursion...<br/>This is following the lives of Sherlock and John as they grow up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When They Met

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So, this is my first fic that I'm publishing, so if you guys could let me know what you think maybe? Any feedback is really appreciated!! Just let me know of any mistakes. XD

“Are you all ready for your excursion to Kensington Gardens tomorrow Year Four?” Mrs Alison called to her class of 9 year olds.  
“YES!” was the enthusiastic reply. Mrs Alison smiled and pulled out the hat with the names of half the class on it.  
“Alright, this hat has the names of all the children on the left side of the room. When I call you out, the children on the right side of the room will come and get a name from the hat. They will be your partner for the day. You mustn’t lose your partner! It is you’re job to look after your buddy, okay? Good. Anderson.” The young boy stood up and went over to the hat. He looked at the name he pulled and grinned.

 

“Sally Donovan.” He said pleased. The dark skinned girl grinned back at him. Just their luck! John thought to himself. He zoned out for a bit waiting for Mrs Alison to call for him. He hoped to get Molly’s name from the hat. Then he would be with someone if he couldn’t be with Greg. He didn’t normally zone out of class like this, but he was third from last because of his last name, it put him at the back of the room. He heard a “Molly” come from a Greg sounding voice. Brilliant! Now he was going to get stuck with someone he didn’t know! 

 

“John.” Mrs Alison’s voice interrupted his thoughts. He walked down to the front of the room. Looking inside the hat, he saw there were only three names left. Sighing he reached his hand in and pulled out one of the names.  
“Sherlock Holmes.” He read out. He lifted his head and looked at the new boy. He had only come to the school this year, and he hadn’t tried to make any friends. If someone tried to befriend him, he had been cold and pushed them away. The pale boy stared back at him, as if daring him to say anything to Mrs Alison about not wanting to be his partner. But John wasn’t a rude child; in fact the only people he didn’t like were bullies. He just didn’t know a lot of the kids well enough to get along with them very well. He liked keeping to himself. He sat back in his seat and waited for the bell to go.

….

 

“Bye Mummy, love you.” John said as he hugged her good bye at the train station the next morning. She waved good bye saying ‘I love you too’ in sign. He turned to his class and walked over to where he saw Sherlock sitting on a bench with a small backpack. “Good morning Sherlock.” He said politely. 

“Is your mother deaf?” the other boy asked. “I noticed the sign language” he elaborated.  
“No, not deaf, mute.” John explained. “There isn’t anything wrong with that!” he said in a warning tone. He had enough kids picking on his mum without this new kid doing it as well. Sherlock seemed surprised by his tone.  
“Of course there isn’t. Who said there was? I didn’t” the tall boy said slightly confused.  
“Hey your freaky mum learn to talk yet?” Sally sneered cruelly as she passed by the bench, not waiting for an answer.  
“Oh. Well she is just a mean stupid little girl.” Sherlock said once she was out of earshot. “You shouldn’t listen to what she says… uhh… John?”  
“Yeah. Its John, I try not to listen, but sometimes she can be so mean it’s hard not to listen!” John replied.

 

The two boys sat there in silence, watching the people pass by, getting on trains, getting off trains; just watching. Suddenly Sherlock spoke again.  
“Do you see that lady in pink over there? She as two children and is cheating on her husband.” He said matter-of-factly. John just stared at him for a minute. He did look over to the lady, but not seeing any kids or boyfriends or husbands he turned back to Sherlock.  
“How can you tell?” John asked the pale boy.  
“She has a tan line on her ring finger, where a ring was. There is that man over there who is coming to meet her, I saw that earlier. If he were her husband she would probably be visibly upset, at least a little bit and having lost her wedding ring. So there is the affair. Now the children you can tell by her phone. It has three charms on it. What person needs three charms? No one. They were gifts, at least two of them were, and the styles of the charms aren’t things that she would pick herself. It’s kind of childish, therefore two kids. Plus her hair. It’s messy. Just by the rest of her you can tell that she would almost never leave the house looking di – dishevelled so the only reason her hair would be messy is if she had children.” Sherlock elaborated eagerly.

 

John just stared at Sherlock, mouth agape in awe. Sherlock shifted uncomfortably, looking down at the ground. He was stupid! He shouldn’t have said anything at all! He was just trying to be nice. Now John thought he was weird. Just like everyone else did. Sherlock sighed sadly. He lifted his head meaning to apologise but Mrs Alison interrupted him.  
“Come on everyone, our train is the next one. Everyone line up please.” The teacher called. The class complied obediently, lining up next to their buddies. Everyone climbed on to the train and in to seats in the same compartment, so Mrs Alison could keep an eye on them.

 

John was excited. The last time he had been to London was his sixth birthday. He couldn’t remember it very well, but he knew that he had liked it there. He turned to Sherlock again.  
“Have you ever been to London before?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He wanted to get to know this smart boy. He seemed like fun, if the conversation at the station was anything to go by. Sherlock was nodding.  
“My parents go there all the time. If I’ve been good at school they let me and my big brother Mycroft come with them. I was here just before school started actually. I haven’t been to the gardens before though. Mummy and Daddy only go to boring offices.” The pale boy informed him. He was looking out the window now and John looked as well. He enjoyed watching the houses fly past. 

 

“Did you know the first British railway was built in 1603?” Sherlock asked him.  
“No. Do you know lots about trains?” John asked back.  
Sherlock smiled. “Yeah, I do...”  
“Well I like trains, reckon you could fill me in?” John asked. He was starting to like this mysterious boy. Sherlock grinned and nodded. John spent the rest of the ride listening to all these cool things about trains. Sometimes a word or phrase would confuse him, not very often, but when it did he asked and Sherlock would explain it enthusiastically. The ride was all too short, because it seemed mere minutes and they were pulling into their station and had to get off. 

 

The class followed Mrs Alison, everyone chatting excitedly. Everyone except Sherlock and John. They just walked beside each other happily, looking around at all the tall buildings. John was enthralled! This was amazing, John thought to himself. He was grinning stupidly, enjoying himself thoroughly. In the distance John could see a big circle building with twisting windows.  
“I wonder what that is?” he wondered aloud.  
“The big cylindrical building, that’s the Gherkin. They use it for special parties, like weddings and stuff.” Sherlock answered, following his gaze. John smiled at him in reply as they continued walking. 

 

It was about fifteen minutes before they came to the gardens. Just from the entrance John could tell that this was going to be amazing! They were introduced to a Mr Moriarty, who scared John a little bit, although he would never admit it. They were taken around the garden, to see some of the statues of the characters. They learnt the names of some of the different flowers. Mr Moriarty led them to a large clearing where they had a lunch spread out on some tables for them. John headed straight for the fruit salad. 

 

“I love fruit salad.” Came a voice from behind John.  
“Sherlock! You scared me! Don’t sneak up on people like that!” John said annoyed.  
“Sorry” Sherlock mumbled in a small voice. John smiled and offered up his bowl.  
“I love fruit salad too” his smile quickly turning into a grin as Sherlock looked up, surprised at his reaction. The taller boy smiled weakly taking the bowl, nodding thanks. John took another bowl and a few sandwiches and gestured for Sherlock to follow him, smiling encouragingly. They sat together at a park bench eating in companionable silence. 

 

“Hey John! This place is awesome isn’t it?” Greg said as he and Molly approached them. John smiled again at his friends nodding, as he was still eating.  
“H- h- hello… Sherlock” Molly mumbled in a soft voice as her cheeks turned red. Sherlock nodded politely but didn’t say anything. The three friends conversed happily while John occasionally tried to invite Sherlock to speak and join in. But the tall boy sat there in silence watching them with reserved interest. 

 

Soon enough a game of tag had started and everyone was running around laughing and yelling with glee. John had been “it” three times before he noticed Sherlock was missing. He quickly got Molly in and went to see if the other boy was still at the bench. He wasn’t there. John frowned, he was going to get in trouble off Mrs Alison now because he lost his buddy. Stupid! That wasn’t what he was worried about! He was actually concerned as to where Sherlock had gone. The hedge behind the bench rustled a bit and he heard a muffled  
“Go away.” Curiosity getting the better of him, John walked around to see what was going on. What he saw stopped him short.

 

Anderson was holding Sherlock by his collar, fist raised to hit him. Sally was standing next to him. Sherlock was trying and failing to keep his expression neutral, but instead, a look of terror kept crossing his face. They hadn’t seen him yet as John was behind them. So for the moment John just stood there, watching the proceedings.  
“You’re a Freak!” Sally exclaimed. “You’re going to be locked up! Freak!”  
“Yeah!” Anderson joined in. “You are a psychopath! That’s worse than insane! You deserve this!” the boy said he moved his fist. John couldn’t take anymore.

 

“OI! YOU LEAVE HIM ALONE!” John yelled at his classmates. All three turned at the sound of his voice, surprised. Sally recovered first.  
“You’re standing up for him?” the girl asked incredulous. “How much is he paying you then? No one can like him.” She continued saying the last word as if she would rather call Sherlock anything other than human.  
Anderson shoved Sherlock and he fell to the ground with an audible thump. Turning to John he joined in with Sally.  
“He’s a psychopath! Have you heard this kid? He always goes on as if he’s better than everyone else! He isn’t! He’s just a bloody psychopath!” Anderson sneered at John. John’s hands were shaking. He hated bullies!

 

“I don’t care what you think! I think Sherlock is brilliant!” he replied back hotly. Sherlock’s head snapped up when John said that, his eyes wide with disbelief. Sally and Anderson were staring at him too.  
“If you think he’s brilliant you’re stupid!” Sally challenged. John looked her straight in the eyes.  
“I guess that makes me stupid, then.” He answered firmly. The two tormentors shrugged, glared at Sherlock once more, then left. Once they were gone John walked over to Sherlock. “Did they hit you?” he asked worriedly.

 

“No, no they didn’t, you – you came just in time. Ahh… Thank you.” The other boy answered awkwardly. John sighed with relief and was about to reply when Sherlock spoke again. “Did you mean what you said? Do you really think I’m brilliant?”  
“All that stuff you were saying earlier… it was amazing!” John smiled. Sherlock looked dumbfounded.  
“That’s not what people usually say.” The pale boy remarked.  
“Well, what do they usually say?” John inquired.  
“Shove off.”

 

John stood and offered his hand down to the figure on the ground. Sherlock gave a small smile and took the hand, pulling himself up.  
“Thanks, John.” Sherlock said quietly. John led the way around, back to the rest of the group. Everyone was still playing tag. No-one had noticed they were gone. John sat back on the bench they had been eating on, Sherlock followed suit. They sat watching the other kids not saying anything, for what felt like the hundredth time that day, but neither minded.  
“My mum said I could invite some of my friends over this weekend. Do you wanna come?” John asked out of the blue. Sherlock glanced at him in surprise.  
“Since when was I your friend?” the boy asked confused.  
“Since I decided I wanted you to be, which was when I couldn’t find you, if you were wondering.” John replied easily.

 

Sherlock grinned for the first time John had seen.  
“I’d think that could be fun.” Came the pale boy’s reply.  
“Can I tell you a secret?” John asked. Sherlock nodded.  
“Mr Moriarty scares me.” He whispered, leaning closer to make sure no one could hear them. To Johns surprise Sherlock just nodded.  
“Although something tells me his son is even more scary than him.”

 

John frowned in confusion, but something told him that it was useless to ask.


	2. High School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse any errors, guys. And feel free to point any out so I can fix them! Thanks for taking the time to read this! XD  
> If anyone cares (idk, maybe you do, maybe you don't) my tumblr is doctorsherlockobsessed

“Come on Sherlock! You don’t want to be late for our first day of High School do you?” John called up the stairs of his best friend’s enormous house. He was answered with a slamming door and the sound of running feet. He watched as Sherlock bounded down the staircase, two or three steps at a time before landing neatly beside John, grinning.  
“I’m coming. We’ve got plenty of time though; I don’t see why we have to go so early.” Sherlock remarked as he led the way out the front door.   
“So we get good seats in the room duh!” John informed the other boy looking up at him. “I swear you grew three inches yesterday, I only saw you Saturday but you seem to have grown again.” He laughed, shoving Sherlock playfully. 

 

Sherlock just grinned and shoved John back. They spent the rest of the journey in companionable silence, as was their norm. As the school came into view, Sherlock started fidgeting; running his hands through his hair, fingers twitching.   
“Relax. It’s only school. You’ll be fine.” John said in a calming voice.  
“It’s not classes I’m worried about. It’s the teachers, I don’t want to get expelled for correcting them… Again.” Sherlock replied, voice strained.  
“Again?”  
“Well you don’t think I just happened to go to your school at the start of year four did you? I got expelled for … correcting the teachers.” Sherlock answered. John shook his head.  
“You’re better now. More self-control. Besides we already know I’m in all of your classes, so I’ll just nudge you if I feel you’re going to do something stupid.” John smiled. Sherlock frowned and quickened his pace. “Oh come off it Sherlock, you know I was kidding! Sometimes you just don’t think.” John laughed at Sherlock’s reaction.

 

The tall boy whipped around.  
“Don’t think.” He slashed out. John wasn’t scared though, he knew how to handle Sherlock.  
“Yes exactly. You don’t think. You don’t think it through. You only think of your reasoning, not the other persons. If every now and then you stopped and did that you might not annoy everyone as much as you do.” John answered sternly. He was honestly starting to get annoyed with Sherlock himself. Actually annoyed, not just a bit of teasing. Sherlock sighed, looking at the ground.  
“I’m sorry John.” Sherlock said quietly, looking down at the ground. Despite himself, John grinned, stepping closer to his friend.   
“Its fine Sherlock, I just over reacted. Though you did too, if we’re being fair.” John put a reassuring hand on his friends shoulder, looking up at him. Sherlock looked at him again, smiling weakly.

 

“Come on, we want good seats don’t we.” John dragged Sherlock around and they started walking again. They were the first ones in the room and they got the best seats. Not too far back, but not too far forward either, right next to the window. Sherlock grinned as he looked around the empty classroom.   
“So, nudging, that’s the signal?” The tall boy asked playfully. John laughed as their new teacher walked into the room.   
“Wanted the good seats?” he smiled. “I know, there’s usually some who come early every year. I’m Mr Small, Jonathan, if you’re curious. Feel free to talk together until the rest of the class come in. I’ll just be here reading.” The teacher informed them as he pulled out a book and sat down. He looked like he didn’t want to be disturbed, so they didn’t disturb him. They talked for a bit longer before pulling out books of their own, as to while away the time until someone else came along.

 

It was half an hour before someone else came into the room, and as luck would have it, it was Anderson.   
“Oh don’t tell me I have to share a class room with you two again.” The boy sneered.  
“I don’t tolerate bulling in my classroom Mr…?” came the stern voice of Mr Small. Anderson jumped round in surprise. He hadn’t seen the teacher when he came in and he meekly told his name. “Do not let me catch you again Mr Anderson, otherwise it will be straight to detention. Am I understood?” Mr Small asked in the same stern voice. Anderson nodded, sitting at the back of the room, as far from Sherlock and John as possible.

 

Sherlock had glanced up about to give back some sarcastic comment before Mr Small had spoken. He gave the teacher a grateful nod before turning back to his book. John smiled at his new teacher, glad that he had such a stern no nonsense policy, before doing the same. Slowly the class room filled up and everyone found seats. Chattering with old friends, and making new ones. Greg and Molly managed to get the seats in front of Sherlock and John, which pleased them all greatly. Before long a pale, skinny girl with black hair, done up in a bun entered the room. She was obviously new in town, taking an eye for Sherlock immediately. She walked over to their desk and extended her hand.

 

“Irene Adler, and you are?” her voice was pure and sweet and John didn’t know where to look. He watched as his friend grasped her hand firmly.  
“Sherlock Holmes.” He replied. The girl glanced at John before he complied as well.  
“John Watson.” He greeted warmly. She smiled genuinely bringing her attention back to Sherlock. She pushed a lock of his hair out of his face.  
“I’ll see you later Mr Holmes.” She informed the lanky male who was looking her curiously. She wandered off right to the front desks and sat gracefully. 

 

Sherlock stopped paying attention to the three people around him and watched the new girl intently. Despite his efforts, he could not read her. He frowned slightly, glancing at John, Greg and Molly in turn. He saw all the little signs that told him of their mornings on them. He turned back to this Irene Adler, unable to see anything about her whatsoever. 

 

“Sherlock, you alright mate?” John asked. He noticed he had been a bit distracted ever since that new girl came over. The boy didn’t respond, still staring intently at the new girl. “Sherlock.” He tried again, poking Sherlock’s arm. The others head snapped around quickly. Looking at John stunned, as if he had forgotten that he was there. “You alright?” John asked. Sherlock nodded distractedly as the bell rang. 

 

“Well hello everyone! Welcome to High School. My name is Mr Small and I will be your English and homeroom teacher for this year. There is a No – Nonsense policy in my classrooms, as some of you have already found out. I don’t mind quiet chatter, but bulling is strictly prohibited in both the classrooms and the school in general. Now on a lighter note all your classes are in this room, but your teachers will exchange. Now for the roll. Oh yes, before I forget! Most of you already know each other, but do try to expand your horizons and make some new friends.” Mr Small said to the class. Sherlock scoffed quietly at the last remark, and John nudged him. 

 

As Mr Small called out names there were various ‘here’ – s and ‘present’ – s. Sherlock’s attention diverted back to Irene. He was undoubtedly intrigued by her; he just wasn’t sure where it was going to lead to. Normally he would think nothing of it, but there was something different about this girl…

 

The bell rang breaking Sherlock’s concentration. He didn’t think about Miss Adler for the rest of the day.


	3. Miss Adler & Birthdays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hop you like it guys!

They had been at high school for a term now and John and Sherlock were walking home as usual. The taller boy was oddly silent, and John decided to pry a little into his head.

“So, you and Irene seem pretty close nowadays.” He said conversationally. He knew Sherlock would see through him, but he could always try.

“You think so?” the brunette replied, obviously surprised. Maybe Sherlock was more distracted than he thought.

“Yeah. You guys are always texting and hanging out at lunch.” John elaborated, looking him over carefully. He had slowed to a more natural pace, rather than his usual long strides. His brow had furrowed in concentration and a rare look of confusion was written on his features. Maybe things were… Not as close as he had thought. “You okay?” he asked softly.

 

 

Sherlock glanced at him and nodded, straightening out his face again. He offered John a small smile before he spoke.

“Yes, sorry. I’m fine. Really. I was just..” Sherlock paused as he thought over the correct phrasing. “… Surprised at your choice of words.” He finished slowly. John raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for the boy to explain. Sherlock shifted uncomfortably, but continued. “I never… never really…” he frowned as he couldn’t find the words he was looking for. “Do you think Irene likes me?” he asked.

 

 

John was sure his jaw hit the pavement as he stared at Sherlock in shock. He had just stopped in the middle of the footpath, and Sherlock had to drag him to the side as some people passed them. He blinked a few times and finally found his voice.

“Likes you?... Well, I wouldn’t know. I haven’t known her very long. I uhh… Don’t really know her ‘type’ per say…” he mumbled dumbfounded. Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Not like that! Like… The way you like me… As a… As a friend.” Sherlock explained softly, bringing one of his hands up to rub the back of his neck. Sherlock really did have a very large range of nervous ticks, John thought.

 

 

Then the reality of what Sherlock had said hit him and he almost fell backwards in shock.

“Of course she likes you Sherlock! She’s not an idiot.” He exclaimed. He grinned stupidly at his friend and linked their arms. “Anyone who doesn’t like you is stupid. You’re fantastic!” he added honestly as he led them back onto the footpath.  Sherlock smiled at him, one of those rare, genuine smiles and fell in step with him.

 

 

“So, what are you doing for your birthday?” Sherlock asked him. John glanced up in surprise and smiled. He always felt warm when Sherlock remembered little things like that. Sherlock didn’t really celebrate birthdays, but he always took into account that John did. He realized he had been staring at his friend for a while without answering and he promptly blushed and looked down.

“Not sure. Haven’t really thought about it.” He belatedly replied. Sherlock chuckled and John blushed even harder.

 

 

“Do you want something big, or small?” Sherlock asked. John thought for a moment before answering. At least he pretended to. He actually knew exactly what he wanted, but he didn’t want to seem too eager.

“Small. You know me. I like celebrating, but I’m not one for fuss.” He answered. “Would you like to stay over that weekend? My birthday is on the Friday and I thought maybe you might like too. But you don’t have to say yes. I know you don’t really do the whole sentiment thing but it’s okay if you say no, really and-“

“John!” Sherlock cut him off sharply. John blushed again, looking down at his shoes. “What makes you think I would say no?” the tall boy continued. John glanced up at him for a minute, searching his face for honesty. When he had finished, a huge grin formed on his face and he squeezed Sherlock’s arm a bit tighter.

“Thanks Sher.” He mumbled as they approached the Holmes Estate.

 

 

The boys took turns going to each other’s houses week on, week off, to complete homework and any projects they might have. They had done this for years, and High School wasn’t going to change that. They wondered up to Sherlock’s room and placed their bags on the desk.

“Science or Math?” Sherlock asked.

 

 

…

 

 

John walked into the classroom alone on the next Friday morning, his birthday. Sherlock had been running late, and told John to go on ahead. John and been a bit upset, but didn’t expect anything less. This was Sherlock after all. This wasn’t the first time he had forgotten his birthday. Sherlock forgot everyone else’s, so why not him? But he was pleasantly surprised when he walked in and saw Sherlock there, grinning madly at him, with a cardboard box on the table.

 

 

Greg and Molly were there too, with smallish parcels wrapped in bright paper next to them. John grinned and rushed over to meet his friends.

“You.” He said sternly, punching Sherlock playfully on the arm. Then he wrapped his arms around him for a quick hug and felt a warm hand over his heart when Sherlock returned the embrace. Pulling back, he hugged Greg and Molly in turn. “How did you get here so fast?” he asked Sherlock, genuinely curious. “I left your place only… ten minutes ago.”

 

 

Sherlock shrugged, a wide smile plastered to his face. “Took a cab.” He answered as if it was the simplest thing in the world. John laughed.

“Right John. Don’t be obvious.” He mimicked, which won him a chuckle off Sherlock. “What’s in the box?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Sherlock smiled wider and opened it, revealing a round cake with perfect white icing. The words ‘Happy Birthday John!’ were written in blue. John gaped in surprise at his friend’s gesture.

“White Chocolate Mud Cake.” Sherlock informed him. The words ‘your favourite’ were left unsaid, but John didn’t need to hear them. He grinned and jumped on Sherlock again, hugging him tightly.

 

 

John released his blushing friend as the bell went and closed the box carefully, sitting in his seat. Mr Small came in and offered him a smile. Of course the teachers would know, he just hoped none of them would call it out in front of the class. Mr Small seemed to understand this, as he went straight to the roll. When he finished calling names, there was ten minutes left before class began. Molly and Greg turned around and offered him the parcels they had. He grinned and ripped the paper off the one Moly offered to uncover a Doctor Who novel, and a sheet of stickers picturing normal doctors doing their jobs, an old standing joke. John had once said he wanted to go to medical school and they had called him Doctor Watson for three weeks.

 

 

“Oh thanks Molly! This is great!” he said sincerely. She smiled in return as he reached for Greg’s present. Peeling the paper off, there was season one of Merlin, and a cute picture of flowers from Greg’s five year old sister. “Brilliant! Thanks Greg, and tell Lucy I love her drawing.” He replied to the questioning look. Just then the bell went, and people started sorting out their books for class. As their science teacher came in, John glanced up at Sherlock, who was already scrawling down notes in his beautiful handwriting. He looked from the box, back to Sherlock, and wondered how he could ever have doubted his best friend.

 

 

Lunch couldn’t come quickly enough. Irene joined the four and John welcomed her. Sherlock brought out a small knife he had brought from home and John cut everyone a piece of cake, making sure to leave some for his mother and sister. Sherlock, for once, actually ate, obviously not wanting to give John anything to complain about. As everyone chattered Sherlock reached into his bag and brought out yet another parcel. Though this actually looked like a parcel, wrapped with brown paper and string. In the corner, in Sherlock’s loopy handwriting was a small note.

 

 

**Did you really think I would forget your birthday? Have faith John. Enjoy the book. Your best friend; Sherlock Holmes.**

 

 

A book. That much was obvious even with the paper still on. It was a large book, thick and heavy. John glanced up at Sherlock curiously. The tall boy just smiled sheepishly and gestured to the package. He raised an eyebrow at him. Sherlock sheepish? This was interesting. He pulled at the string and pulled the paper away. John gasped as he saw the book. It was a lovely leather bound deal, obviously from an age ago. The pages were yellowed but well preserved and the cover was detailed with gold calligraphy that read;

 

 

The Raven and Other Tales

Edgar Allen Poe

 

 

John was stunned. It was amazing! Some faint memory stirred, Sherlock had been talking about how boring literature was, and John had asked him if there was something he would rather read than Roald Dahl (they weren’t really reading Roald Dahl but the way Sherlock was carrying on they might have been). “ _Edgar Allen Poe_.” The brunette had responded enthusiastically. “ _Not a bad idea Sher… I’ve been meaning to read some of his stuff. Haven’t gotten to it yet._ ” He had replied. A grin of absolute delight spread across his face and he almost knocked the taller boy off his seat.

 

 

Sherlock laughed and hugged him back.

“Thanks Sher.” He mumbled. How could he have ever thought Sherlock would forget his birthday?! “You really are the greatest.” He pulled back, blushing slightly as he realized he had been in the boy’s arms for longer than was deemed polite. But Sherlock didn’t seem to mind too much. John sat back and grinned at his friends. “You all know how to spoil a bloke, that’s for sure.”

 

 

…

 

 

“Mum! We’re home!” John called as he opened the door to his house. It was nothing like Sherlock’s mansion, but his best friend seemed to enjoy it more than his own home. His Mother appeared at the end of the hall, beckoning them towards the kitchen. Adjusting the box under his arm, he walked down the hall, knowing Sherlock would follow. Placing it in the table he quickly signed to his mother ‘Sherlock bought me a birthday cake and a book by Edgar Allen Poe’. She grinned and gave the simple thank you gesture towards Sherlock. The other boy waved it away.

 

 

“It was nothing, really. Anything for you John.” Sherlock replied. They sat at the table and did their homework on John’s insistence.

“I just want to get it out of the way. Then we can do whatever. It won’t take more than fifteen minutes.”

But between the two of them, they managed to finish in ten minutes. His mother gave them some snacks and signed to them that they could take it up to Johns room.

 

 

“Thanks Mum. You’re the best!” John said happily as he grabbed the plates, turning to walk out of the kitchen. Walking up the stairs, he kicked his bedroom door open and placed the plates on the desk. Sherlock came in behind him, and to Johns surprise, he was blushing.

“Sherlock… Are you alright?” he asked, unable to keep the laughter from his voice. His friend looked adorable when he blushed like that. Wait. Adorable? Where did that come from? He shrugged it away for now, problem for later, and returned his attention back to his blushing friend.

 

 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Sherlock mumbled in reply. Now John was getting worried. Sherlock never mumbled.

“Sherlock, really. What’s wrong?” he asked. The giggles stopped and his concern was obvious. Sherlock looked alarmed.

“No! Don’t… Don’t worry. Everything is fine. Really! It’s just…” the boy trailed off. John decided to stay silent, as Sherlock would finish when he was ready. “I was just thinking about something.” He admitted softy. Bitting his lip from nerves, Sherlock sat next to John on the bed, and slipped his bag off his shoulders.

 

 

“I may have gotten you something else as well.” Sherlock mumbled softy. John almost laughed with relief.

“Another Thing! Really! You’ve already done too much for me.” He exclaimed. Sherlock just shrugged and reached into his bag. He handed over a small odd shaped package with no markings. John eyed him closely. “You really are a wonder Mr Feelings-Are-Stupid.” He teased. Pulling away the paper, a small round tin fell out. He raised his eyebrows at it. Fruit salad?

“There’s more.” Sherlock prompted him. He pulled the rest of the paper away to reveal another, small paperback book. Peter Pan. Now John understood. Fruit salad and Peter Pan. Kensington Gardens. The day they met.

 

 

For the third time that day, John launched himself at Sherlock and hugged him tightly.

“Mr Sentimental.” He teased the taller boy. Sherlock chuckled and returned the embrace. They stayed like that for several minutes, until Sherlock pulled back. John let him, knowing he had probably smothered Sherlock today, and that the boy was just patiently putting up with because it was his birthday. “You’re the best Sherlock. Really.” He said.

 

 

Sherlock grinned. He stood and wandered over to where the desk was, sifting through Johns DVD’s. Sighing, he tossed one over.

“If these are your choices, let’s go with this one. It’s more tolerable than the others.” The brunette said briskly. John picked up the case, shaking his head. Season one of Doctor Who.

“You’re as bad as Molly, you know.” he replied. Shoving the disk into the player, he sat back on the bed, Sherlock next to him. This was, by far, his best birthday ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thanks for reading all the way through!


	4. Sickness & Love

Sherlock had been gone for four months.

 

 

Four months ago, John received a text from Mycroft reading

‘Sherlock is unavailable. Either one of us will notify you when he is back. – MH’.

So John had gone to school that morning feeling rather exasperated at the two Holmes brothers. Couldn’t they just say he was sick? But as time progressed, he became more and more worried. No word from any member of the Holmes family for four months, and when John went around, either no one was home, or they didn’t answer.

 

 

At the moment, John was trying to focus on his history essay. He wasn’t doing a very good job. His thoughts kept drifting back to his missing friend. What had happened? Why had he gone off without any warning? At least a goodbye? Was he not even worth that? Sighing, John threw his pencil on the desk, unable to even pretend he cared about the essay at this point. Not that he had said it out loud, but the seventeen year old was extremely worried about his friend. More worried than he liked to admit. 

 

 

That was when his phone beeped.

 

 

John glanced over to his bedside table where his phone was sitting. He should probably answer that. Probably Greg trying to cheer him up. Slowly, he stood and walked over to his bed. Laying down, he picked up his phone from the small table and unlocked it.

1 New Message. Received 10:29am Saturday 5th June:

Hello John! I’m alive! Do you want to go out somewhere? I’m bored!! – SH

 

 

John grinned. In fact, his whole face lit up. All at once, a million questions flooded his mind, but he pushed them aside.

 

 

I’d love to go out! Where the hell have you been? – JW

Didn’t Mycroft tell you? Bastard! I asked him to. Oh well. I may as well tell you now, though not over text. Fancy a trip to the city? – SH

You’re lucky you’re my best friend. A trip to the city sounds fantastic, but this doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you. – JW

Meet at the tube station in half an hour? I’ll explain everything John. I promise. – SH

It wasn’t anything I could control. – SH

I believe you. Half an hour. I’ll be there. – JW

Yay! – SH

Do you just say “yay”? – JW

Yes. – SH

… You’ve only gotten crazier.  – JW

That’s a good thing. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have a bit of insanity in my life. – JW

Don’t get used to it. I don’t think I will ever say that again. – SH

I’ll savour it then. - JW

 

 

John jumped up, walking over to his cupboard to grab a jumper. Grabbing his keys and wallet, he rushed down the stairs two at a time in his eagerness.

“Mum! I’m going out with Sherlock! I’ll be back late!” he called into the house as he ran out the door. He hailed a cab and squirmed in his seat excitedly. Finally! He was getting to see Sherlock again! Plus they were going to London! He hadn’t seen either in such a long time. He hated going to London without Sherlock, it just wasn’t the same…

 

 

Half an hour later his cab pulled up at the station and he practically threw his wallet at the cabbie in his rush. He ran down the stairs, two at a time, again. Casting a glance around the crowed platform, he searched for his missing friend…

“John!” He whipped around, trying to find the source of the familiar voice. Finding it, he grinned.

“Sherlock!” He called back. He started running towards his tall friend. Oh God! He had only gotten taller. But he had also gotten skinnier. Which worried John. Sherlock was skinny enough as it was. As they neared, he was tempted to hug the taller boy, but decided against it. Sherlock hated affection. But he was pleasantly surprised when he was enveloped in Sherlock’s embrace. “Hey!” he laughed as he returned the gesture. He knew what this was. “I missed you too.” He mumbled.

 

 

They stood like that for several minutes before Sherlock pulled back. The brunette was grinning from ear to ear.

“Come on. I already got your ticket. Train comes in fifteen  minutes.” He was already pulling John along, their arms linked, taking his usual long strides and John had to jog to keep up. Normally he would have protested at the break neck pace, but he was just so happy to have his best friend back.

 

 

The platform was nearly deserted, which was unusual for a Saturday morning. Sherlock led him over to a bench and sat down, both of them grinning. They sat like that in silence for a while, but before long, John couldn’t help himself.

“So, where _have_ you been Sherlock? I’ve been so worried about you. You wouldn’t answer my calls or texts, and when I went around to your place, no one was there.” He asked, obviously concerned. Sherlock almost looked guilty. This was something. What could make Sherlock look like that?

 

 

Sherlock’s face changed, and John couldn’t quite discern the emotion behind it.

“So Mycroft didn’t tell you. Bastard. He knew I couldn’t!” the brunette muttered. Now John was worried.

“Couldn’t what? Sherlock, what is going on?” he asked. When the boy didn’t answer, he tried again. “Please. I’m worried about you.”

 

 

Sherlock sighed.

“I’ve been sick.” He said softly. “Really, really sick.”

John swallowed thickly. “How sick?”

“Cancer sick.”

 

 

The world froze. At least, that’s how it seemed to John. Sherlock had cancer. His Sherlock. His best friend. The boy he had grown to love. He felt his hands tighten on the seat, his knuckles going white from the force of his grip.

“No. What? Where? How long do you have? This doesn’t make an sense.” He babbled, not knowing what else to do. Sherlock sat up straighter in alarm.

“No! Please! Relax! I’m fine! It’s gone now. I’m fine. I promise.” He assured him. Though it didn’t work very well.

“ _Cancer, Sherlock!_ You have bloody cancer and you didn’t tell me and I couldn’t help you and _god!_ ” John buried his head in his hands, rubbing his face.

 

 

“John. Please listen. I _had_ cancer, not have, _had_. They got rid of it. If you really want to know, it was in my chest, but it hadn’t gotten around anything yet, so they got it out with no problem. I didn’t… I wanted to tell you John, I really did. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t talk… you know… when I was actually conscious. But it’s okay now. It’s fine now. I’m fine.” Sherlock said. Hesitantly, he put his hand on Johns shoulder, trying to be a comforting figure. “I’m fine.”

 

 

John let out a shaky breath and looked up.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be like this. I just…” he trailed off, unsure how to finish. Luckily, Sherlock obliged.

“Sentiment.”

“Yeah. That’s the one.” John laughed softly. Sighing, he squeezed Sherlock’s arm, just confirming that he was there. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he mumbled.

“Promise.” Sherlock replied.

 

 

The train pulled up and Sherlock pulled John up by his arm, gripping tightly. The boy led them on and, luckily, they managed to get an empty carriage.

“It’s good to have you back Sherl.” John mumbled as they sat down. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too John.” Sherlock replied softly. John smiled and punched Sherlock’s arm playfully. Sherlock had only got more and more closed up over the last few years. The relentless teasing didn’t help matters, and he was starting to call himself a sociopath, which he definitely wasn’t. So when he did open up, it was brilliant.

 

 

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Sherlock spoke again.

“Have I missed much at school?” The tall boy asked.

“Umm… English essay, worth twenty percent. Science test, which you’ll just breeze through… Oh yeah! We got new science partners and I stuck out to be yours. So we can work together. Greg caught his girlfriend cheating on him, so that’s over. Irene has been thoroughly annoyed with you. Reckons you’re ignoring her. Molly’s been worried sick.” John informed the other. “Other than that… Not much.”

 

 

Sherlock nodded, smiling softly. “What about you?” he asked. John smiled back. No one would ever be able to convince him that Sherlock didn’t care, that he didn’t feel, least of all Sherlock himself. 

“Nothing much. Harry came out to our parents, that’s it. Nothing interesting happens to me without you.” He replied. With a small sigh, he leaned up against Sherlock’s arm, resting his head on the others shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He murmured.

 

 

Not that he saw it, but Sherlock’s smile widened. The brunette rested his head on top of the blondes and closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call.” He replied, just as softly. John shushed him.

“It’s alright Sherl. Really. I get it, I do.” He assured him. “I’m just glad to have you back.” Because I’ve wanting to tell you how much I want to snog you. Brilliant John. Just brilliant. Because you can _totally_ tell you’re not-at-all interested best friend _that_. He sighed again and felt Sherlock shift under him.

 

 

“Are you sure? Is everything alright, John?” that gravelly voice asked. Damnit! That voice sent chills right down Johns spine. John sat up, in a way he hoped was casual, rolling his head around to make it seem natural.

“’Course I’m sure. Everything’s fine. Why do you ask?” he replied, trying to bluff it out. He turned away from his friend to hide his blush, looking out the window. Damn him! Damn him and his bloody cheekbones and his bloody voice and his bloody eyes and his bloody hair and his bloody brain and his bloody deductions and his bloody perfectness!

 

 

“You seem… Stressed out… Are you sure everything is okay?” Sherlock asked. Damnit! Now he was being all concerned! He was just _trying_ to make this hard for him, wasn’t he?

“Everything is just _fine_ Sherlock.” John snapped, bit harsher than he had meant to. “Can you please just drop it?” Great, now he was being an arsehole. Oh god. Why had he done that?

“Oh… Alright.” Sherlock replied softly. Oh god. Now he had hurt Sherlock. No, no, no. This was bad. Very bad. What should he do? Why was he so stupid?

 

 

“I’m sorry, Sherlock. I- I didn’t mean to snap. I’ve just been… struggling at school. I ditched my history essay to come with you today.” He murmured, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. This, was all true, of course. He glanced back at Sherlock to see him smiling softly.

“It’s alright, John. Really. I’m sorry for pushing you.” The brunette replied. John shook his head.

“I shouldn’t have snapped.” He repeated. Sherlock shrugged and offered him a half smile.

“Let’s just forget it, shall we?” Sherlock said.

 

 

John sighed and smiled gratefully.

“Sure. Just a nice day in London with my best friend.” He replied. He looped their arms and sat back to look out the window.

 

“Sounds Perfect.”

 

 

After about an hour’s train ride, they arrived in London, and walked out of the station, arm in arm.

“So, what were you thinking?” John asked curiously. Sherlock smiled softly and glanced at him, before looking ahead again.

“I was thinking that Italian place we like, then a walk around Kensington gardens.” The taller boy replied. John grinned and squeezed his arm minutely. That sounded perfect. Just what they needed after their argument on the train.

 

John allowed Sherlock to lead the way, figuring the boy had been couped up long enough. He looked around at the tall buildings, a grin stuck on his face. He’d like to live here one day. How could he ever be anywhere else? He’d never be able to bear it.

“John.” A deep voice cut into his thoughts and he looked up at Sherlock in surprise. “We’re here.” The brunette continued with a small chuckle.

 

John blushed and nodded, opening the door for his friend. Sherlock seemed surprised, which only made John blush more. They sat by their usual table by the window, and a waitress handed them menus with an overly bright smile. John picked his up, while Sherlock had it memorized.

 

 

“I don’t know why you bother, John. You order the same thing every time, so why read it?” Sherlock said suddenly. John chuckled, shutting the menu and dropping it on the table. “You’re right, of course. Maybe I just like looking at pictures of pretty food.” He replied sarcastically. That earned him a chuckle. Brilliant. He loved Sherlock’s laugh. He had such a lovely laugh… No. Stop it. Sherlock frowned slightly, looking him over carefully. Luckily, he decided not to push it, probably remembering the incident on the train.

 

 

The waitress came back and Sherlock ordered drinks and food for them both, having deduced (or remembered) what he wanted. The curly-haired boy turned to look out the window, and he took the opportunity to watch him. His hair was shorter, obviously having grown back while he was recovering from the surgery. But it was still long enough to curl. Thank God. A straight haired Sherlock? That would be horrible. He probably wouldn’t recognise him. He had already noted how much taller his friend had gotten, and it even showed while sitting. His hands with their long slender fingers were in their usual thinking position under the boys chin. His features were a bit sharper, more defined by how skinny he had gotten.

 

 

Their food and drinks came and John looked up at the woman with a small smile. When he turned back, Sherlock was already shoving pasta in his mouth eagerly. He smiled fondly, he’d never seen the boy eat with so much happiness.

“Hungry, much?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Sherlock stopped, looking up at him as if he’d forgotten he was there. He probably had too. He was always doing that. The boy swallowed his mouthful and smiled toothily.

“Just a little.” The brunette replied. John rolled his eyes and cut into his lasagna, smiling widely.

 

 

After they had finished, they walked down to Kensington Gardens, arm in arm. It was colder than usual today, even with winter approaching, and they huddled down into their coats. Sherlock led them to that all familiar clearing where their friendship and first started, John could still remember it as though it were yesterday. They sat at their bench, arms still linked, close together to try and stay warm.

 

 

At least, that’s what John _said_. Really, he just wanted a chance to get closer to Sherlock. Winter weather was definitely going to be coming sooner than the actual season did. John smiled as he looked around, deciding to get into the spirit of things. This was the origins of Peter Pan, after all.

 

 

“Looks like the winter fairies will be coming soon.” He giggled. Sherlock gave him a _look_. Not just any look. It was _that look_.

 

 

“Don’t be stupid, John. Fairies don’t exist. There is no way for them to exist, nor for magic.” Sherlock said briskly. John looked down, to hide his blushing cheeks. Sherlock always managed to make him feel stupid. If that wasn’t bad enough, Sherlock then ranted on for over half an hour over the science of how fairies couldn’t exist, and how magic was preposterous. When he was done, John didn’t even look up. He didn’t even acknowledge him. Why was he so stupid?!!

 

 

“You’re not stupid.” Sherlock said firmly. Right. Of course he bloody knew what he was thinking. “I don’t always, John. I do mostly though. Especially since you think that a lot. I mean it; you’re not stupid at all.” John sighed.

“This, from you? ‘Don’t touch that John, don’t be so stupid.’ ‘How did you possibly think up something so idiotic, John?’ ‘Stop thinking your stupid thoughts, John. I can’t concentrate.’” He snapped.

 

 

Sherlock’s face, infuriatingly, went blank. John tugged his arm back and stormed off. He needed a walk to calm himself down.

“John, I don’t think you’re an idiot!” Sherlock called after him. John didn’t bother to answer. He’d only yell at him again. He was mad at him, but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt him.

“John!” Sherlock tried again. John blinked and kept walking.

 

“John! Come back!” Just keep walking.

 

 

“PLEASE!”

 

 

John stopped. He didn’t turn around, but he didn’t walk away either. He could hear Sherlock’s foot steps behind him, coming closer every second. He didn’t want to hear it. Not an apology. It would only break his heart…

 

 

“John… John I’m sorry…I didn’t mean all those things… all those things I said. You’re not an idiot. You’re really not. I’m sorry I upset you, I just…”

 

 

Just? Just what?

 

 

“You know I don’t like them…”

 

 

Ah. Right. Feelings…Feelings?

 

 

“I was trying to hide them… because I was confused by them. I didn’t know what they were. So I would try and hide it by snapping at you… I’m sorry… I didn’t…”

 

 

Didn’t what?

 

 

“… If… If you were an idiot…I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.”

 

 

Now John did turn around, shock written all over his face.

“Say that again!” he ordered. Sherlock blinked in surprise, but swallowed and complied.

“I love you John.” The boy whispered. John took a step back, his hand clasped over his mouth. Sherlock really _had_ just said that. Oh my god. Oh. My. God. OhMyGodOhMyGodOhMyGodOhMyGod!

 

 

Sherlock looked down, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“That’s what I was afraid of… I’m sorry, John. I suppose I’ll see you in school.” The brunette whispered. He went to turn away, but John grabbed him by his collar and pulled him towards him. Their lips clashed and John moved his hands to cup Sherlock’s cheeks. They slowed, not being so rough with each other, getting a feel of how the other moved with him. Sherlock’s arms found their way around John’s waist and pulled him closer.

 

 

It was a considerable time before they pulled apart, both of them breathless. Sherlock leant against John’s forehead, a faint smile on his face. John stroked a thumb over one of those amazing cheekbones.

 

 

“I love you too, Sherlock.” He whispered. “I have for a while… A long while.” Sherlock looked a bit annoyed.

“How did I not see it?!” the brunette muttered. John couldn’t help but giggle at him.

“Because you were feeling the same, silly.” He responded teasingly. Sherlock smiled again, one of his rare, genuine smiles. Hopefully they wouldn’t be so rare anymore.

 

 

“So… What happens now?” Sherlock mumbled softly. John pursed his lips for a moment. His phone beeped and he reluctantly pulled it out as he recognized the tone.

 

 

John, dear. Harry’s out at Clara’s for the night, and your father and I are away for the weekend. Do you have your keys? Love Mum.

 

 

John grinned and quickly shot her a text back.

 

 

Yes Mum. Love you too, see you Monday. – JW

 

 

He slipped his phone back in his pocket and wrapped his arms around Sherlock.

“Well, my house is empty for the weekend. How about we go there and see what progresses?” he murmured. Sherlock grinned down at him.

“That sounds brilliant.”

 

 

Sherlock wrapped his arm around Johns shoulders, and John wrapped his arm around Sherlock’s waist, and together, they headed for the train station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for Reading guys!


	5. University

>To: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>From: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>Sent: 3rd September 3:06pm

I miss you already. University is so dull without you to deduce all my teachers and the other students. You only left for France yesterday, I can’t wait for the end of semester so I can see you again.

 

Yours Always,

John.

 

>To: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>From: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>Sent: 3rd September 3:27pm

I miss you too, John. It’s horribly cold here, and I miss your warmth. I would much rather be at Barts with you than in this bloody country. Bloody Mycroft. I want to kiss you again, hold you. Damnit, John, I am totally lust crazed in this impossibly dark room. Luckily, I was one of the few who landed a private. So not only can I think of you whenever I want, I don’t have to have a stupid roommate distracting me all the time. Because, I have met a number of my “peers” and they are all morons. I love you.

 

Yours

Sherlock.

 

>To: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>From: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>Sent: 3rd September 3:35pm

Oh, love. That was just poetry. I love you too. So much… You and your bloody fancy word phrasing. Your wanking to me, aren’t you? Seriously though, what the hell was that? “I am totally lust crazed in this impossibly darkened room.” You’re absolutely crazy, know that? Complete and utter bonkers. God, I love that though. You and your bloody experiments. I’m going to miss them. And your violin. I love it when you play, it’s so beautiful. I’m already counting down the days to semester break so I can hop across the pond to see you and fuck your brains out. Just remember, if you want to live outside school (which, knowing you, you will), remember the speech we (I) prepared.

“How do you feel about the violin? I play the violin when I’m bored, sometimes I don’t talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Flat mates should know the worst about each other.”

Though, if it’s between you and me love, I don’t think not speaking is your most terrible quality.

 

Yours Always

John.

 

>To: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>From: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>Sent: 3rd September 4:01pm

You’re so forward. I always liked that about you. Yes, of course I’m wanking at the thought of you. This is the first time since I was seventeen that I’ve slept alone. Two years of sleeping with you, of making love to you, now I’m all alone in a foreign country with only a laptop to talk to you with. Semester break is going to be amazing, I know it. Do you really think we can keep this long distance thing going? You know what I’m like…

 

Yours

Sherlock.

 

>To: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>From: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>Sent: 3rd September 4:10pm

Sherlock. We’ve talked about this. We _can_ do this, and we _will_ do this. I have no doubt. You and me, we’ll get together again. Please let’s not talk about this please. I miss you enough without thoughts of losing you.

 

Yours Always

John.

 

>To: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>From: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>Sent: 3rd September 4:25pm

You’re right, as usual. I’m just being stupid. I have to go now, I’m sorry. There’s some mandatory orientation thing that I have to attend. I’ll talk to you as soon as I can. I love you.

 

Yours

Sherlock.

 

 

>To: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>From: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>Sent: 8th October 12:17pm

I think I made a friend…

SH

 

>To: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>From: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>Sent: 8th October 12:19pm

Oh? Tell me more. I like the sound of this…

JW

 

>To: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>From: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>Sent: 8th October 12:31pm

Well, I managed to get myself a flat share two weeks ago, and he hasn’t run away screaming yet. His name is Victor Trevor and he isn’t as stupid as everyone else in this bloody school is. In fact, he’s _almost_ not quite, but _almost_ as brilliant as you. No one is more brilliant than you. No one. Except me, of course. Anyway, he offers to get me things for my experiments, he likes my deductions, doesn’t care that I’m gay and well… Basically acting like you, though not as close. I… I think I like it.

SH

 

>To: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>From: [john.watson@gmail.com](mailto:john.watson@gmail.com)

>Sent: 8th October 12:40pm

Sounds like you have. You should introduce us when I come down for semester break. I’d like to meet my boyfriends new mate. He French? Or is he from up here?

JW

 

>To: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>From: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>Sent: 8th October 12:43pm

I should. He’s English. Victor says he wants to meet you too, I kind of go on and on about you when I’m bored. He reckons you’re nice, which you are. I love you. Haven’t told you in a while, so I thought I should. I love you.

SH

 

>To: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>From: [john.watson@gmail.com](mailto:john.watson@gmail.com)

>Sent: 8th October 12:47pm

I love you too, dear. Christ I miss you. I don’t think I would survive without our constant emailing. Are you getting anywhere with the local police? And have you come up with a name for it yet? You know, what you do… I love you. I love you. I’m just going to keep saying it. I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.

Just in case you didn’t realise, I love you.

JW

 

>To: [john.watson@gmail.com](mailto:john.watson@gmail.com)

>From: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>Sent: 8th October 12:54pm

I love you too. So much. More than you know. I never ever want to forget you.

SH

P.S I got it.

 

 

>To: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>From: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>Sent: 25th October 6:09pm

There has been an unexpected development in Victor’s character. He is a drug addict. Trying habit. I’m surprised he’s still in the university. But, then again, the administration is probably ignoring it because of his family. Very high up, like mine is. Should I do something?

SH

 

>To: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>From: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>Sent: 25th October 6:15pm

You should probably try to help him. If he won’t go to rehab, just watch him. Try and ween him off it. And be careful, I know what you’re like and you’re going to want and try some “For Science.” Just promise me you won’t. Please. I wouldn’t be able to cope. I need you here and level headed and alive if I’m going to see you this semester break. Promise me you won’t try any for any reason.

JW

 

>To: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>From: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>Sent: 25th October 6:21pm

I promise I won’t take any drugs. Alright? I’ll do as you suggest. Thank you. Now, if you please, I have an idiot to ween and another idiot to tutor. I’ll talk to you later. Goodnight John.

SH

 

>To: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>From: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>Sent: 25th October 6:27pm

Thank you, Sherlock. I’ll leave you to it then. I love you. Good night.

JW

 

 

>To: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>From: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>Sent: 8th December 9:00am

Won’t be around for a few days. Starting a new experiment. I’ll miss you.

SH

 

>To: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>From: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>Sent: 8th December 9:25am

Oh. Alright then. I’ll miss you too. Hope it works for you.

JW

 

 

>To: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>From: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>Sent: 25th December 11:05am

Merry Christmas, love. Is that experiment working for you? I’ve missed you this month. Are you going to finish soon?

JW

 

 

>To: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>From: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>Sent: 13th January 8:17pm

Sherlock, is everything alright? I haven’t heard from you for weeks. Please answer me, I’m worried about you…

JW

 

 

>To: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>From: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>Sent: 30th May 6:30pm

Do you want me to come over for semester break? I’m going to need your address. Why haven’t you been answering me? Please, I miss you. You’ve got me worrying…

JW

 

 

>To: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>From: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>Sent: 5th July 7:09am

Have you deleted me? I bet you have. That’s why you’re not answering. God. After everything… I thought you loved me. No. I _know_ you loved me. Why would you delete me? Damnit Sherlock, I still love you. I love you. Please answer me, _please_.

JW

 

>To: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>From: postdeliveryfail

>Sent: 5th July 7:10am

This is a notification to alert you that your message failed to send.

Message as follows;

To: sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk

Have you deleted me? I bet you have. That’s why you’re not answering. God. After everything… I thought you loved me. No. I know you loved me. Why would you delete me? Damnit Sherlock, I still love you. I love you. Please answer me, please.

JW

 

The reason for this failure, this email is no longer in use.

 

 

>To: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>From: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>Sent: 5th August 7:05pm

I don’t even know why I still bother. Well, actually, I do. I’m still clinging to the hope that one day you’ll answer me. That I won’t get an email saying that yours doesn’t exist. Damnit Sherlock. What happened to you? I miss you. You said you never wanted to forget me! You said you loved me! Did you ever really mean it?! Why would you disappear like this?! Was I not worth even a goodbye?! All this time and everything we went through together… and you still went and deleted me once it was too boring to keep up! Christ, Sherlock!!! I hate you right about now. I hate you. You just left. Why did I ever expect any different from you?!! Fuck… Do you even remember the first time we did that? The first time we fucked? It was the best night of my life and God Sherlock I only fell more in love with you. This hurts. Being apart from you, _hurts_. And I hate you for it. I hate you so much right now. You hurt me. You left me and I don’t know if I can forgive you. I hate you. So much.

 

But what really hurts is that I don’t. I don’t hate you at all.

 

I love you. I always will.

 

Goodbye Sherlock.

 

John.

 

 

>To: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>From: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co)

>Sent: 16th July 8:01pm

So, I graduated and I am now officially a doctor. If you care.

John.

 

 

>To: [sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk](mailto:sherlock.holmes@scienceofdeduction.co.uk)

>From: [john.watson@gmail.co](mailto:john.watson@gmail.co) [Block Email]

>Sent: 19th February 8:30pm

So… Umm… It’s been four years since I’ve tried emailing you again. The last thing I sent you was that I had become a doctor. Well, I’m putting that to use. I’m joining the Army, just like my Dad did. Remember the day we got that letter? You came over to my house after school and brought everyone ice-cream… I’m leaving tomorrow. So, umm. Yeah. Goodbye Sherlock. Good luck with whatever you became…

 

John.

 

Sherlock stared at his screen. A new email, from a blocked address. Who was John? Why would he think Sherlock cared about if he was leaving to fight overseas? What was he talking about “It’s been four years.”? What was that about buying ice-cream? Why would he buy ice-cream? It was obviously some sort of joke, or a wrong address. Then again, his email was pretty unique, like him. So, a joke, then. He raised his hands, hovering over the keys, intending to track this mysterious “John” and show him who exactly was laughing. But something stopped him. Some unknown voice in the back of his head told him he wouldn’t want to know if “John” had really joined the Army. He didn’t know what this voice was, or why it chose to care so much, but he listened to it. He deleted the message and shut his laptop and grabbed his coat. He needed a distraction; hopefully Lestrade had some sort of case, because he couldn’t afford to go back to drugs… 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading guys!


End file.
